


You Make Bad Look So Good

by GreenOrnaments



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Blow Job, M/M, Masturbation, Movie Star Richie, Porn Without Plot, married reddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenOrnaments/pseuds/GreenOrnaments
Summary: Eddie is utterly blindsided by his husband’s first movie sex scene. So is his dick.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 160
Collections: Quarantine It Fic Fest





	You Make Bad Look So Good

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic for the Quarantine Fic Fest based on this prompt:
> 
> Eddie sneaking away to jerk off at some Fancy Hollywood Event and Richie finds him and finishes him off.

This isn’t the first time that Eddie has attended one of Richie’s new movie premieres. Not by a long shot. It’s old hat by now, really. They’re all more or less the same. Walking the red carpet close by Richie’s side. Flashbulbs going off in his face as he poses for photographs, with his husband’s arm wrapped proudly around his waist. Answering inquisitive questions from microphone wielding reporters as they ask what he’s wearing, if he’s seen any of the movie yet, if he’s proud of his husband’s work. Eddie is an old pro at this by now. It just comes with the territory of being married to a famous person, but at the end of the day, he doesn’t care one way or the other about any of that. Because yes, no shit, OF COURSE he’s proud. What a stupid question. That’s always his number one reason for being there. 

This premiere, so far, hasn’t been that much different from any of the others he’s been honored to attend. The lights have long since dimmed inside of the theater and the movie has been playing for a while. Eddie has completely forgotten where he is, so engrossed is he in watching the story unfold, unparalleled pride filling him as he sees Richie up there,  _ his _ Richie, knocking it out of the park in a serious role that Eddie has rarely seen him do, but which somehow feels as natural as though he’s been doing it his whole career. He sneaks the occasional glance over to his husband beside him, who is subtly shifting his attention from the screen to Eddie, clearly watching for his reaction, and Eddie makes sure to squeeze his hand and give him encouraging smiles that unquestioningly mean  _ You’re doing so good, baby, I’m so proud. _

He’s busy reaching his hand into his commemorative popcorn bucket about halfway through the film when a vaguely familiar noise stops him in his tracks. It takes him a few seconds to place it, and when he finally looks back up at the screen, everything clicks into place and he bites back a gasp of surprise as he realizes what it is. 

Because there, up on the giant screen for everyone to see, is Richie, and Richie is sprawled out on a bed, his legs splayed and his eyes closed as his pretty co-star’s character kneels in front of him, the clever camera angles doing an excellent job of conveying exactly what’s supposed to be going on in the scene. There’s dialogue, but what’s being said is just going in one ear and out of the other, because Eddie can’t focus on anything else but the pleasured look on his husband’s face up on the fifty foot screen. Another moan escapes Movie Richie’s lips, a noise that Eddie has heard countless times before, albeit usually a lot louder, more desperate, and in a  _ much _ different context than this. 

_ Oh, fuck. I was NOT prepared for this, what the fuck.  _

Eddie’s eyes are glued to the screen, his cheeks growing hot like fire as he watches the scene unfold. His thoughts travel back to the last time  _ he _ made Richie moan like that, which is entirely too fucking long ago. The previous night is the first time he’s actually seen his husband in a month, and they didn’t even have time to do much more than make out and cuddle because they had to be up early to prepare for this event. Eddie has been surviving on just video chats and his own hand in all of that time, and watching Richie doing these things onscreen with someone else is having an effect on him that he would never have expected. He feels almost… jealous? Is that it?  _ That’s so fucking stupid, Eddie, why should you be jealous, you knew there would be a sex scene. It’s just his job, that’s- _

Movie Richie and his co-star are hastily ripping each other’s clothes off now, and Eddie bites his lip, vaguely aware that the real Richie next to him is shooting him curious looks, but he’s utterly unable to turn his head away from the screen. Much of his husband’s body is on display now for everyone in the theater to see, and, to Eddie’s horror, he finds his pants suddenly feeling just a bit tighter than they were a few seconds ago. 

Ok, so maybe it’s not  _ just _ jealousy he’s feeling.

His breathing quickens ever so slightly as Movie Richie starts acting out things that Eddie has never seen from this angle before, and the tightness in his pants gets increasingly worse as his heart pounds in his ears. All of the blood in his body has seemingly traveled south, and he has to bite back a moan of his own as the fucking popcorn bucket brushes against the throbbing bulge in his lap. He side-eyes Richie, who is watching the screen and hasn’t seemed to notice his predicament. Thank fuck, because he does  _ not _ want to endure endless hours of amused jokes at his own expense later when all he really is going to want to do is push Richie down onto their own bed and go to town on him. 

_ Oh, shit, no, don’t think about THAT right now. Think of literally anything else. Puppies. Kittens. Um…. grosser things, Eddie, come on. Dirty socks. Grey water. Staph infections.  _

Nothing seems to be working, and when Movie Richie’s bare ass begins thrusting onscreen, Eddie admits defeat. His erection isn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon, not with those images and sounds in his head, but he sure as fuck can’t keep sitting there with a tent in his goddamn pants. He’s going to have to sneak off to the bathroom until it goes away and hope that nobody notices. 

Slowly, he rises from his seat as the sex scene ends, careful to hold the popcorn bucket in front of him as a shield. “I’m running out for a refill,” he quickly whispers to a curious Richie, and makes a beeline for the auditorium exit like his ass is on fire. Which, well, it kind of is at the moment. 

He hurries through the lobby, still holding that stupid bucket in front of him, and says several silent prayers that he won’t run into anyone on his way to the restrooms. Thankfully, the few staff members hanging around don’t seem particularly interested in him, probably because he’s not one of the actual famous celebrities attending this event, so he’s able to quickly reach his destination without attracting much attention. He tosses the bucket onto the sink, locks himself into a stall, and leans up against the wall with a sigh of relief as he actively tries not to think about how many germs are on it. 

_ Ok, Eddie, you fucking horny bastard, can you stop acting like a hormonal teenager and get rid of this thing so you can go back out there and finish the rest of the movie? Please? _

He stands there for a moment or two, trying to think of anything that will quell the throbbing in his pants, but he isn’t having much luck. His thoughts keep turning back to that scene, to Richie’s sinful moans, the well-acted pleasure on his face, and his erection just gets harder and more insistent. It’s practically begging at this point to be set free. Eddie lets out a frustrated sigh as he obliges, undoing his pants and almost groaning with relief as his dick springs from its restrictive prison after he pulls it from his underwear. His fingers brush against the tip just as the image of Movie Richie’s bare ass fills his mind, and the combination makes Eddie let out an involuntary whimper. 

_ Goddammit Richie. _

Without realizing it, he finds himself beginning to stroke, slowly thrusting into his own hand as he turns over that damned sex scene in his memory, trying to keep his moans quiet. He mentally puts himself in the place of Richie’s scene partner, perfectly able to imagine what it would feel like to be manhandled by his husband that way. He  _ has _ felt that, many times in fact, but there’s something about seeing it from an outside viewer’s perspective that is  _ really _ working for him right now. He pumps his dick a little faster, wincing a bit at the less than ideal dryness of the situation, but that’s forgotten quickly enough as he loses himself in wondering what Richie was thinking of when he shot that scene, if he was imagining Eddie pinned beneath him and keening while the cameras rolled, if he-

The sound of the doors opening and footsteps outside the stall door nearly cause Eddie’s soul to exit his body. He stops mid-whine, his hand still gripping his length as the footsteps cease. A second or two of silence passes, and then…

“Are you gonna let me in or what, Eds?”

Eddie nearly injures himself lunging for the door lock. He shakily yanks the door open and pulls Richie inside before shutting it again, unable to muster the energy to even feel slightly embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising position. Richie’s eyes darken to near blackness as he takes in the sight of Eddie, his pants around his knees and his throbbing, leaking dick out on display. The next thing Eddie knows, he’s being roughly pinned to the side of the stall, the imposing largeness of Richie’s body pressing against him in the most delightful way as their lips crash together hungrily. The pulsing between his legs becomes almost unbearable, and he lets out an embarrassingly pornographic groan into Richie’s mouth when one of his husband’s big hands snakes down between their bodies and wraps itself around his erection. 

“How’d you…  _ oh, fuck… _ how’d you know I was in here?” Eddie asks breathlessly in between sloppy, desperate kisses as he instinctively bucks up into the touch, his fingers carding through the other man’s hair. 

Richie chuckles low in his throat, and the sound sends a ripple of electric pleasure through Eddie’s very core. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice your reaction to that scene?” Richie murmurs into his ear, his breath hot against Eddie’s skin. “You think I don’t know exactly what you look like when you’re turned on? When you’re  _ jealous? _ ” He moves his lips down to the sensitive spot just below Eddie’s ear and lightly nips at it, causing Eddie to have to bury his face in Richie’s neck to quiet the whimpers that are cascading out of him as he desperately thrusts up into the hand around his length. 

“Look at you,” Richie says lowly, his voice rough as he pulls back enough to look Eddie in the eye while he’s working him over. “So fuckin horny for me you couldn’t even wait until we got home.” He lets go of Eddie’s dick with one final swirl of his thumb over the head and leans in to suck a kiss into the pulse point of his throat, causing Eddie to whine from both pleasure and frustration. He slithers down Eddie’s body, hands on either side of him until he’s sunk to his knees on the floor before him, and Eddie’s brain short-circuits as he realizes where this is going. 

“You shouldn’t be so jealous, Eds,” says Richie as he once again wraps a hand around him and begins to teasingly stroke, applying just enough friction to make Eddie bite back a whine, but not  _ nearly  _ enough, not as much as Eddie wants him to. “I want you to know, the entire time we were filming that scene, all I was thinking about was you. How I couldn’t fuckin wait to come home to you, so I could do this.” 

He leans in and teasingly wraps his lips around just the head, and Eddie can barely breathe as he looks down at him, at the borderline  _ illegal _ sight of his husband swirling his tongue around his tip. He makes brief eye contact with Richie before the other man smiles coyly and sinks his mouth down onto his entire length. Eddie is hyperventilating, scrambling for anything to grab onto as he sinks into the pleasure he’s been craving for weeks. He feels himself hit the back of Richie’s throat and has to press a fist to his mouth to keep from alerting everybody out in the lobby as to what’s happening in the restroom. 

“Richie… fuck…  _ fuck, Richie, god…. _ ” he babbles, his hands finally finding purchase in Richie’s hair as he feels himself quickly approaching the edge he’s been searching for ever since he entered the bathroom. He involuntarily pulls on the unruly locks as one of Richie’s hands lightly strokes his balls, and the action causes the other man to moan around his dick. 

The vibration is what does it. Eddie is gone, whiting out as he pulses and comes hard inside of Richie’s mouth with an uncontrollable scream of his name, his fingers relentlessly clinging to the other man’s hair like it’s a lifeline, until he finally begins to come down with shaking legs. Richie swallows it all down, sucks him through it, and then pops off of him, looking up at him with wide, coy eyes. He licks his lips and dabs one finger delicately over the corner of his mouth to catch the excess, and that sight alone could have made Eddie come again instantly if it were physically possible. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans as he carefully tucks himself back into his pants and tries to catch his breath.

“Was that pretty much what you were thinking about back in the auditorium?” Richie asks with amusement as he stands up, brushes his pants off, and runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it. His voice is rough and cracking from what he’s just done, and Eddie has to silently tell his dick to calm the fuck down and take a damn seat already. 

“Well, yeah, no shit, genius, it’s been a while,” replies Eddie, smiling at the sight of his husband looking so proudly disheveled. 

“Good, so that means when we get home you’re gonna return the favor?” adds Richie, leaning in for another brief neck kiss with enough pressure that Eddie just  _ knows _ there’s going to be a mark there later, much to his delight. 

“You’ll be lucky if I let you leave the bedroom at all for the next twenty-four hours,” Eddie replies, happily giving him a slap on the ass as they make their way out of the stall. 

“I’ve missed you, Eds.”

“Not as much as I’ve missed you, I assure you,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around him from behind as they both look into the mirror over the sink. 

_ I’m the luckiest man alive, surely.  _


End file.
